and pushed it out into the stream. One end remained secured on the far bank so that, when the free end had drifted across and lodged on the shore, a bridge was made across the stream. Moorawees led the way, hooking her claws carefully on the rough bark and holding to the projecting stubs of branches. Enge waited for Ambalasi to precede her — but the scientist was rigid and uncommunicative.
“I will go first,” Enge said. “I believe that there is nothing to fear.”
“Stupidity and incomprehension,” Ambalasi said with some vehemence. “I am not afraid of these simple creatures. It was the silence of thought and observation that stayed me. Did you see what they did?”
“Of course. Floated this log over so we could cross the stream dryshod.”
“Brain-of-lowest-fargi!” Ambalasi snapped with quick anger. “You see with your eyes but fail to understand with your brain. They have used an artefact in the manner of the ustuzou — not the Yilane. Now do you see what is happening?”
“Of course! Joy-of-revelation, acknowledgment of stupidity. Though physically like us, they are fixed at a social level scarcely above the lower animals with no knowledge of Yilane science.”
“Obviously. But obvious only when pointed out to you. Proceed.”
They crossed the bridge as carefully as the Sorogetso had done, though Ambalasi stopped halfway over and bent down to look closely into the water. The Sorogetso called out with fear until she signed a negative and went on to the other bank.
“No danger visible,” she said, watching with great interest as the Sorogetso pulled on projecting branches and trailing vines — careful not to step into the water — until the tree had been pulled back into its original position. As soon as this was done the two Sorogetso hurried out of sight among the trees. Enge called for attention.
“Moorawees has gone this way; we must follow her.”
They followed another well-trod path through the thin growth of trees and emerged into a clearing. Only Moorawees was visible, waiting for them, though they felt that many others were watching them from the concealment of the brush. Ambalasi expressed happiness at excitement of new knowledge.
“Look at the shore there, through the trees. I do believe that we are surrounded by water, an island in the stream that acts as a barrier, containing some danger-to-be-discovered. Gaze upon primitive and disgusting habits, discarded bones now black with flies.”
“Moorawees calls to us,” Enge said.
“Follow me and bring the medical supplies.”
Moorawees pushed aside a low bough to disclose a nest of dried grass under a tree. Lying there unconscious, eyes closed, was a Sorogetso. Obviously female, her sac gaped slightly open, she stirred and moaned with pain. Her left foot had been bitten by some creature, was half eaten away. Now it was swollen and black, covered with flies. Her ankle and the leg above were also swollen and discolored.
“Neglect and stupidity,” Ambalasi said with some satisfaction, opening the container creature. “Drastic measures must be taken and you shall assist me. This is also the opportunity for certain scientific experiments and observations. Send Moorawees away. Tell her this one’s life will be saved but she must not watch or the cure will not take.”
The Sorogetso was happy to leave and retreated quickly. As soon as she was gone Ambalasi, with quick, accurate movements injected an anesthetic. As soon as Ichikchee was silent she wrapped a binding creature around the injured limb, centering the head over the large artery behind her knee. When prodded, the binding smoothly swallowed its tail until it grew tight, sunk into the flesh, cutting off the blood supply. Only then did Ambalasi take her string-knife and cut off the infected foot. Enge turned away but could still hear it crunching through flesh and bone. Ambalasi saw this and registered astonishment.
“Such squeamishness! Are you then a fargi with no experience of existence? Watch and learn for knowledge is life. The foot was possible to repair — but only as a partial, crippled thing. Better to remove it all. Or rather all not needed. Half of the phalanges and metatarsal bones gone. With care and skill I excise the rest, stopping at the tarsus. We need that. Now — the large nefmakel, yes that one, clean this wound up. Give me the container.”
Ambalasi found a small bladder of viscous red jelly. She cut it open and used a tiny nefmakel to remove a white kernel from its core — which she fixed into position on the stump of the severed leg. Only when this was placed to her satisfaction did she close the wound and cover it with a larger nefmakel, then found another single- fanged creature for a second injection.
“Antibiotic. Finished.”
She straightened up and rubbed at her sore back — and realized that they were no longer alone. A number of the Sorogetso had emerged silently from hiding and now stood close and watched, stirring and moving back a bit when her glance caught theirs.
“Pain ended,” she said loudly in their manner of communication. “She sleeps. Will be weak, but pain will be gone. She will have many days’ rest, whole again, as she was before.”
“Foot… gone,” Moorawees said, staring wide-eyed at the bandaged stump.
“I will return and treat her. Then something will be seen that you have never seen before.”
“What have you done?” Enge asked, as puzzled as the Sorogetso.
“Planted a cell cluster to grow a new foot. If these creatures are as genetically close to us as they appear to be she will grow a new foot in place of the lost one.”
“But — what if it doesn’t grow?”
“Equally interesting in the cause of science. Either result will be of great importance.”
“Even more so to Ichikchee,” Enge said with obvious overtones of disapproval. Ambalasi expressed surprise.
“Surely the advance of knowledge takes precedent over this primitive creature — who would certainly have died if I had not treated her. Such sympathy is misplaced.”
The Sorogetso were even closer now, ten of them in all, jaws gaping as they tried to understand this unknown communication. They watched attentively as Ambalasi spoke, some even shuffling closer to make out her colors better.
“There you are,” Ambalasi signed abruptly to Enge. “More knowledge must be gained. You will talk with them now. What a momentous occasion this really is. Momentous!”
The Sorogetso drew back at the quickness of her unknown communication, but returned when she called gently to them.
“They are like fargi fresh from the sea,” Enge said. “We must be patient.”
“Patient, of course, but we are students as well. We are the fargi now, here to learn, for they have a life and existence of their very own that we must plumb and understand. Now we begin.”
CHAPTER FORTY
kakhashasak burundochi ninustuzochi ka’asakakel.
A world without ustuzou is a better world.
Vainte felt no despair, no fear of her meeting with Lanefenuu. They had their losses, terrible losses — but there had been success as well. In battle you had to accept one in order to gain the other. The final victory was all that mattered, all that would be remembered. She was sure of this within herself, felt not one bit of doubt, yet still kept reassuring herself over and over again of that strength. Lanefenuu might doubt, if so she would not be convinced unless Vainte wore surety-of-success like an all-enveloping carapace.
“Desire of position change, insufficiency of light,” the crew-member with the brush and paint said, modifying the demand with controllers of extreme humility.
The uruketo had altered course, they must be nearing Ikhalmenets, so that the shaft of sunlight from the top of the open fin had moved from her. Vainte leaned forward to take the weight off her tail and stepped into the light
